Sydney siege: One year on, it is business as usual for Martin Place

This day last year, a hitherto peaceful Sydney, in the midst of a bustling festive season, was brought to a standstill as an errant gunman held 17 people hostage in a popular café. At the twilight vigil today, as the survivors relive their ordeal for the nth time, the families of café manager Tori Johnson and barrister Katrina Dawson will painfully recall the day their lives changed irrevocably.

For the Sydneysider, this December 15 and each one to follow will be a delicate reminder of the susceptibility they have grown to live with. The date will bring back memories of the uncertainty that gripped them for hours and of the anxiety that lasted for days afterwards. It will be a grim recap - of the day after, when snaking queues of humanity transformed Martin Place in the centre of the city into a floral shrine; of the sight of Dawson's young children; of the card from Johnson's inconsolable colleagues, hailing him as "our brother, our hero".

Much has happened in the world since last December 15. And if there's one point that has been driven home repeatedly, it is that terror could strike in any form, anywhere - a fact the people of Sydney have come to imbibe unwittingly. If some cabbies are claiming to be busier than ever before, some others are ruing the reluctance of suburban residents to make the trip to popular city spots and 'expose' themselves to possible attacks. While some event managers continue to benefit from sell-out events, others blame the empty venues on people's unease in being part of "soft target" large gatherings.

Yet, in day-to-day life there's barely anything that's palpably different. For sure, in the days immediately following the siege, there was a noticeable increase in the number of police and military personnel peppered around the city. Since then, things have pretty much returned to the way they used to be.

A recurrent aftermath of any attack of this kind is the collective vitriol directed towards specific categories of people - where an act by an individual is seen as representative of an entire group. Sydney has, so far, bucked this trend. In a year that has been fraught with political vicissitudes, one of the key issues of contention has been the country's questionable treatment of refugees and asylum seekers. Fortunately, the growing tribe of human rights activists who have been scathing in their criticism of the government's policy haven't let their conviction be clouded by that most infamous of refugees, the gunman at the centre of the siege - Man Haron Monis.

Even as plans are being firmed up for a permanent memorial, the truth remains that like every other metropolis that has had to live through such attacks, Sydney has moved on. In the Lindt café where the siege played out, brass plaques have been installed honouring Johnson and Dawson. Little else is new. Office goers and shoppers continue to chatter over cups of Lindt's signature hot chocolate as waiters gingerly bring orders to tables and chocolatiers put finishing touches to their festive masterpieces. It is business as usual.